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Davis, Rebecca Harding, 1831-1910

"Margret Howth, a Story of To-day"

"It is the best time to begin a new life. Yourself,
now, you will have fulfilled your design by that time,--of
marriage?"
Holmes was leaning on the mantel-shelf; his very lips were pale.
"Yes, I shall, I shall,"--in his low, hard tone.
Some sudden dream of warmth and beauty flashed before his gray
eyes, lighting them as Knowles never had seen before.
"Miss Herne is beautiful,--let me congratulate you, in Western
fashion."
The old man did not hide his sneer.
Holmes bowed.
"I thank you, for her."
Lois held the candle to light the Doctor out of the long
passages.
"Yoh hev n't seen Barney out 't Mr. Howth's, Doctor? He's ther'
now."
"No. When shall you have done waiting on this--man, Lois? God
help you, child!"
Lois's quick instinct answered,--
"He's very kind. He's like a woman fur kindness to such as me.
When I come to die, I'd like eyes such as his to look at, tender,
pitiful."
"Women are fools alike," grumbled the Doctor. "Never mind.
`When you come to die?' What put that into your head? Look up."
The child sheltered the flaring candle with her hand.
"I've no tho't o' dyin'," she said, laughing.
There was a gray shadow about her eyes, a peaked look to the
face, he never saw before, looking at her now with a physician's
eyes.
"Does anything hurt you here?" touching her chest.
"It's better now. It was that night o' th' fire. Th' breath o'
th' mill, I thenk,--but it's nothin'."
"Burning copperas? Of course it's better! Oh, that's nothing!"
he said, cheerfully.


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